Grey
by SincerelyKayo
Summary: X was a recruit of the Red Room, injected with a sample of the same serum that changed Steve Rogers. Now, she works as a PI for anyone who will pay. She's neither black nor white, only grey. But she's dangerous, and the good guys and bad guys are willing to do anything to get her on their side. Good vs evil, all star cast of heroes and villains ahead as well as some romance? RxR!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I HAVE RETURNED BWAHAHAHAHA! Kinda... Ok, not really. Some plot bunnies came sniffing around my garden after I saw the trailer for Jessica Jones and I was so happy at discovering that the extermination of my garden wasn't permanent that I wrote this! I have NOOOO IDEA where this is going. But I'm actually really excited! So hopefully I'll be able to continue this. I'd really like to see where it's going to lead me (Because, let's face it, I never plan anything.) Updates will be sporadic because I'm actually supposed to be doing school (Should get back to that after I finish this...) and I'm thinking instead of just churning out chapters I'll hold onto them a while and edit and stuff so they're better quality. If nothing else, I hope my writing has improved from all the essays and study questions and rhetoric and old books and Latin and blah I'm talking about school again. ENOUGH OF BORING YOU! Oh, real quick, to any of you who have read/are reading some of my other fics and have actually gotten this far in the exceedingly long paragraph that is this author's note, I plan to update those as soon as I can, should be some time in May after I graduate (SQUEEEE! I'm almost free!) Okay, NOW onto the story. ENJOY!**

"My name is X. I'm seventeen." The ball bounced off the wall, ricocheting back towards me.

"I was kidnapped as a baby. I was experimented on. I was injected with a serum that gave me powers beyond what any human should have." I punctuated each sentence with the "bap"s made by the ball hitting the wall. I could feel the anger building up inside me as the memories bubbled up, the noise the ball made as it contacted with the wall was harder, stronger as I tried to kill the memories with the rubber object.

"I was lied to." Bap!

"I was hurt." Bap!

"I was tortured." Bap!

"I escaped." Bap. The sound decreased as I remembered what the feeling of being free had felt like, breaking out of my prison that cold December night.

"I found my family." Bap. I was home for Christmas. There was no way to describe what that felt like, my first Christmas, with a family I had dreamed of for years.

"They found me." Bap! The sound increased, coming faster and louder than before as I tried to forget the terror of seeing the agents in the snow, waiting for me.

"They killed my family." BAP! I tried to block out my mother's screams of terror, the yells of pain from my brothers and father, the smell of blood, fire and gunpowder.

"So I killed them!" A crunch sounded as the ball embedded itself in the wall. I stood, trying not to shake as the vision of bodies on the floor in pools of blood, the red stuff covering my hands, dripping off the gun and the knife in my hands, filled my mind. It only took a few seconds to compose myself and when I was done I turned around, facing the terror stricken faces of my fellow anger management attendees and the dude in charge of the meeting.

"And now I'm here," I said to the silence. I could see the man in charge trying to recover himself. He was working his jaw, seeming to have trouble choking out the words he should be saying in this situation. Thankfully, right as he seemed to figure out how to say what he wanted to say, I felt my phone buzz against my ass. I reached in and pulled it out, not bothering to check caller ID. The people I worked for always got around it.

"Talk," I said, my usual way of answering a phone.

"I would like to purchase your services." the voice on the other end said. I rolled my eyes.

"Let me guess. You wanna know what your wife is doing," I said.

"Your skills are not exaggerated," the man replied, obviously pleased I was as good as they said.

"If they were, I'd be dead. Email me her name, contact information, a picture and possible places she's going. I'll need the same information about you. I charge at the end. You cover expenses," I said, before hanging up. I didn't do small talk.

I turned to the still frozen people in front of me. "If you'll excuse me, I have places to be." I turned on my combat boot heel and began to walk to the door, zipping up my hoodie in anticipation for the cold.

"But the session isn't over!" the man in charge finally managed to call out in a horrified tone. I raised a middle finger for him to see before I plunged out into the cold. The wind hit me like a blast of ice in the face but I kept going. It wasn't nearly as cold as Russia and God knows I had spent enough winters there, doing shit in the cold, to build up a tolerance.

A beep sounded. I pulled out my phone to look over the information the nosy husband had sent me. The woman was pretty, much younger than her husband, who was noticeably older and had a cruel tilt to his face. Obviously, she was having an affair, but with a husband like that, who could blame her? He probably beat her.

 _Not my problem,_ I thought. _Unless she's willing to pay_. I shoved my phone back into my pocket and pulled up the hood of my hoodie, shoving my hands in my pocket.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You didn't catch them?" the man's voice growled. I had just informed him his wife had skipped town with her lover, neglecting to mention the huge stack of cash she had given me to keep quiet about where they were going.

"You told me to find out what she was doing, not stop it. Stopping it would require that you pay me more." I was getting tired of the man on the line. I wouldn't have even taken the damn case except 1) it got me out of anger management and 2) I needed the cash. "Now wire that cash or we're going to have a problem," I said.

The man growled. "You're threatening me?" he asked. The tone he took was obviously one he was easy with, telling me that he was on comfortable ground with people threatening him. _Time to make him uncomfortable,_ I thought.

"That depends, Mr. Rossini," I said, my subzero like the Russian winters I used to endure. "Are you going to put that tumbler of 1880 brandy on the table to your left, get your ass out of your one hundred year old Italian armchair, in your Tuscan villa and wire me my money, or are you going to try to play the tough guy?"

I could hear him put the glass on the side table. "How did you know all that?" he asked.

"You're not a very trustworthy man Mr. Rossini. I take my precautions. Which is why if you don't hand me the money, not only is it going to get out that you were beating your wife, you're also going to find your business records on the internet and I highly doubt Interpol will be happy to hear what you've been doing."

The fake information the man had given me hadn't fooled me for a second. There had been a half hour metro ride, which I had used to figure out who the man and his wife really were. After that, it had been a cakewalk.

"I don't take kindly to being threatened," Rossini said, his words heavy.

"And I don't work for free, especially for idiots who can't make themselves clear. Now send the dough." I could feel more than hear him pick up and twirl his tumbler around, thinking. It didn't matter, I knew the conclusion he'd come to. It was the same conclusion they all came to.

"Very well. You'll get your money. But I will not forget this Ms. X," he said.

"Save it for the people who care about the room they take up in your head," I replied before hanging up. I put my phone back in my pocket, deciding to hit the convenience store before I went home. I picked up a bottle of booze and a pack of cigarettes, giving the guy behind the counter a look that could freeze Hitler when he tried to card me. After that, I made my way home.

"X where is my money?" my annoying landlord asked as I walked into the building. I glared before reaching into my pocket and pulling out the stack I had set aside.

"Here's your two thousand," I said, shoving it into his hands before making my way to the stairs. I felt him counting it behind my back as I climbed the stairs.

"This isn't counterfeit, is it?" he demanded when he was done. I turned around and shot him a glare.

"Like hell I would give you counterfeit money. Don't insult me again by insinuating I would," I growled. The slimy landlord took a step back before recovering himself.

"Just make sure you're on time next time!" he said, walking away. I rolled my eyes before I finished climbing the stairs. I walked to my apartment door and moved to unlock it, stopping when I realized it was open. I narrowed my eyes, standing silently and feeling, trying to figure out who was on the other side of the door.

 _Cologne, mid-range expensive. Easy lock pick. Positioned in the chair where he can see._ It all pointed to a professional on the other side of the door but since he left the door open to make himself obvious, I assumed he was here to talk. _Probably a job offer,_ I thought, continuing inside but still on my guard.

"How was anger management?" Nick Fury asked. I continued to the table like finding the director of SHIELD sitting uninvited in my apartment was a normal occurrence, and dropped the booze on the table, taking out the pack of cigarettes and lighting up. I took a deep drag of smoke before slowing blowing it out.

"Still pissed," I said, offering a half-ass "whoops" face before turning my back on him and walking to the window. I propped it open and then leaned back against it, taking another drag of my cigarette.

"Aren't you a little young for cigarettes and spirits?" Fury asked, eyeing the bottle of bourbon I had bought.

"Aren't you a little old to be avoiding the point?" I asked, raising a sarcastic eyebrow as I walked over and dropped onto the couch, crossing my legs and laying a hand over the back of the couch.

"Alright fine, we'll cut the small talk. You've caught SHIELD's attention."

"Whoop de doo," I said, exhaling smoke.

"You're a talented young woman S-"

"Don't call me by that name. It doesn't belong to me anymore." Fury raised an eyebrow at my icy tone but otherwise let it drop.

"We want you to come work for us."

"How about no? Just cuz I've taken down some of your agents and managed to hack your system in my spare time, finding a bunch of dirty secrets I doubt even you know are there, doesn't mean I'm cut out to be, or even want to be, an agent," I said.

"What kind of dirty secrets?" Fury asked, slightly surprised.

"Nice try, I'm not doing your dirty work for you. So take your offer and kindly shove it up your ass." Fury chuckled.

"You're one smart bitch. You knew I was coming and what I was offering before I came, didn't you?" he asked.

"You may want to do a full system purge when you get back. Sorry you wasted your time convincing that council of morons to bring me in," I said, offering an "innocent" smile. Fury smirked.

"Apparently, I should. Well, if you ever change your mind, you know how to find me. Enjoy your booze," he said, getting up and walking to the door.

"But X?" Fury asked at the door.

"What?" I demanded.

"Leave my agents alone," he said, his tone dangerous. "Now have a good night." He exited the room as quietly as I'm sure he entered it. I snuffed out my cigarette before getting up and pouring myself a glass of booze. I chuckled as I put it to my lips.

"They aren't your agents you know," I said, before downing the glass and going to take a shower.

 **A/N: Well? Haz I improved? Did you like? PLEASE REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Forgot to add this little disclaimer last time. I AM IN NO WAY, SHAPE OR FORM ENCOURAGING UNDERAGE DRINKING/SMOKING! I am not encouraging smoking of any form either and I encouraging drinking only in moderation! The character contained in this fic can't actually get drunk (Because of the same serum Cap was injected with) and lung damage does not occur because of aforementioned serum. So DON'T DRINK TOO MUCH OR SMOKE AT ALL! Also, I'm not actually sure if alcohol helps with allergies. My immediate response would be no, so I don't encourage trying it. Ok, there's my little bit for the younger generation. ON TO THE STORY!**

"X?" a voice asked, coming up behind me in the shady bar where I could drink in peace and not have to worry about being carded.

"Depends on what you want," I said, lifting my glass to my lips. The burn of the Moscow mule was doing wonders for my sinuses. _Who knew alcohol had the ability to clear up allergies?_ I thought as I held my glass up to the light and stared at it. Course I technically shouldn't be having allergies. I thought the serum I had been injected with was supposed to take care of them. You never heard of Captain America having allergies right? _Figures I'd be so unlucky. Maybe it was expired,_ I mused, putting my glass back on the counter. I rested my chin on my hands and continued to stare at the liquid in the glass. _Would that mean I'm drunk right now? Because, if I can get allergies, I can probably get drunk too. Which would explain my strange mood. Maybe it's the booze. I don't usually feel like this. Hmm..._

The sound of a throat clearing brought me back to my senses. "What?" I demanded, turning around to face the man in the suit behind me. I almost didn't turn quick enough as the man lunged at me with a stun gun. I didn't hesitate though, bringing my elbow down on top of his hand and smashing it against the counter, causing him to release the stun gun as the sound of his hand breaking filled the room. The man screamed in pain before I shut him up by punching him in the face. I released his hand at the same time and he fell backward, clocking his head on a chair and falling unconscious to the floor.

I slid off my stool and faced the other three, currently surprised, men surrounding me, suddenly the only other patrons in the bar, besides the unconscious clown on the floor at my feet. I crossed my arms and ankles and leaned against the bar, staring them down. "Before we have a repeat of your friend's stupidity, does someone want to explain why the hell you're bugging me?" I asked. My head still felt funny but the rush of adrenaline was clearing it up.

"Our boss sent us to get you. He wants to have a chat," one of them said, recovering from his surprise.

"'Get' meaning drug my drink and stun me before dragging me to whatever lowdown lair you're holed up in?" I was taking a shot in the dark, drugs weren't supposed to work on me.

"You shouldn't be standing." _Figures. And here I was hoping I could get drunk,_ I thought.

"Yeah, well I'm not inclined to visit a guy who can't even drug his target correctly, or send a group of thugs actually capable of getting said carpet, so tell your boss I said he can go fuck himself. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to finish my drink and get home."

"My boss is very patient. He's also extremely persistent. Come with us now, or he'll keep sending someone to get you. It's only a matter of time before we figure out a formula that can actually knock you down. You saw this time we actually got pretty close. You're almost inebriated." I glared.

"That sounds like a threat," I said.

"I can make it one." I growled.

"Fuck you," I said, grabbing my jacket and pulling it on, marching to the door. "You going to take me to him or not? The sooner I get this over with the sooner I can drink in peace!" I called back to them.

They came forward, ignoring their friend on the floor, and began to lead the way. They led me across the street to an unmarked black car and shoved me inside. I snorted. "Original," I said sarcastically as I settled back into the leather seats. The car smelled like Cuban cigars. The other three men climbed into the car before it finally moved.

We drove for half an hour, through the shadiest parts of NYC, before we finally pulled into a dark, shady warehouse. "Definitely a lowdown lair," I said, slamming the car door behind me as I got out.

"Glad you like it," a voice said. A man walked out of the shadows, his hands in his pockets. Some might have considered it intimidating. I found it annoying.

"Sorry jackass, I'm just making a point. Now why the hell did you and your goons think it was a good idea to try and kidnap me by drugging my drink? You know, I thought you were better than this," I said, not hiding my annoyance.

"My guy guaranteed the drug would work. Obviously, I shall not be using him anymore. Though, I must say, it's truly extraordinary you're still standing," the man said, raising an eyebrow. I raised an eyebrow of my own.

"Yeah, well I'm just full of surprises." If sarcasm were poison, everyone within a twenty mile radius would be dead.

"I'll cut to the point then."

"Please do."

"I was impressed with the work you did for me. I was not impressed when I discovered it wasn't as thorough as I thought." He flashed me a cold look.

"What happened again? I pretended to ice one of your guys and then he went and ratted you out to the FBI?" I asked, putting a hand to my chin in sarcastic thought.

"You cost my operation a great deal."

"Yeah, well it's tough all around champ," I snapped.

"I am not in a playing mood X," the man growled.

"Join the club."

"I expect you to give me compensation."

"How about no?" I snapped. The man made a motion with his hand and the next thing I knew, both of my arms were caught in a scissor lock, my captors being the man's two goons. I attempted to pull my arms out, only to discover it was a solid lock. _Shit, this is going to suck,_ I thought,

"How about yes?" the man said. His eyes were steely, dangerous. The scissor lock on my arms tightened as two fists simultaneously slammed into my gut. I swallowed a groan of pain, doubling over as much as my restrained position allowed. That turned out to be a bad idea as the guy on my right slammed his elbow into my face. My head snapped back, but this time I let the motion carry, riding the rebound to bring my upper body back to where it belonged.

I spit the blood from my busted lip out of my mouth, raising my eyes and glaring at the man in front of me, putting as much hate and fury into my gaze as I thought was safe. The man, to his credit, only took a small step back. "How. About. No?" I snarled, jerking my arms forward as hard as I could. The two goons went sprawling on the floor, sliding towards their boss. I dropped to my knees as the third goon from the car, who had tried to hide himself amidst the boxes, started shooting at me with a gun he had picked up from somewhere. I tucked and rolled, diving behind a box and pressing my back to it. I tried to determine where the bastard was, finally succeeding in pinning his position to directly across the warehouse. I looked around, trying to find something to use, when my eyes locked on a crowbar. _How fitting,_ I thought, recalling this particular gang's penchant for beating errant members with crowbars.

I snatched it up and waited for the shooting to stop. "Hold your fire!" the boss called, the call followed by silence. I heard whispered instructions, preparing to make my move as heavy footfalls filled the silence. _Three, two,_ I counted out their approach, waiting for the right time. _One!_

I jumped on top of the box and then plunged off of it, smacking my crowbar across the smaller goon's head as I fell. I landed, swinging my crowbar up and connecting it with the biggest one's chin. His head snapped back as I shoved the end of it into his buddy's gut. I pulled it out slightly before up-ending it into his jaw and then smashing it into his face, sending him sprawling, completely unconscious. As shots filled the darkness, I turned my attention back to the bigger guy, swinging the crowbar at his head. He caught it and tried to pull it out of my hands. I let go easily, causing him to loose his balance. I took advantage of his momentary unsteadiness and shoved both my fists into his chest. The guy went flying, dropping the crowbar. I grabbed it and hurled it into the dark at the shooter. I was rewarded with a satisfactory "SMACK" and the sound of a gun and a body falling. I turned as the big one charged me, placing my hands on his chest and dropping back, kicking my feet into his gut to launch him high in the air as my back rolled on the floor. I snapped into a handstand as the man crashed into boxes. I came down and turned to face the boss. I walked towards him, slowly, deliberately, making no effort to hide the anger and malice that were rolling off of me in waves. The man began backing up but I moved quickly and grabbed him by his lapels.

"Do not screw with me, otherwise your whole operation is going down," I growled, my face right up in his. The man's eyes were filled with fear, even as he tried to remain calm and stare me down. I released him with a shove and turned on my heel, making my way through the darkness towards the exit. As an after thought, I shoved my elbow into the driver's window of the car out of spite, shattering the window before continuing on my way. I could feel the man cringe behind me, which made me a little annoyed. Coming out into the darkness of the night I took a deep breath, trying to shove the anger back down before it broke free. It didn't work. I looked around and my eyes landed on a lead pipe. I smirked as I grabbed it and bent it around the handles of the warehouse doors, trapping the bastards inside. Deciding it was worth the risk, I pulled out my phone.

Five minutes after telling the FBI where to find the mob boss they were looking for, I was making my way home through one of the shadiest areas of NYC. _It's gonna take forever to get home,_ I complained to myself. As if sensing my already pissy mood, the night picked that moment to start raining. I looked up at the sky and glared. _Where did today go wrong?_ I wondered, pulling up my hoodie and beginning my trek.

The morning hadn't started like this. It had gone the same way every work morning went. I woke up to the sound of my alarm screaming it's maniacal tune, jerking out of a nightmare before smacking the infernal thing across the room into my wall. I had swung my legs over the side of the bed and rubbed my face with my hands, getting them tangled in my waist length hair in the process. After painfully extricating my fingers from my hair, I reached down and picked one of the spare alarm clocks out of the box under my bed where I kept them in bulk and set it on my night table. I plugged it in and then set it before getting out of bed and going to pick up the pieces of the old one. There was a growing hole in the plaster from where the clocks consistently hit but that would be left for another day.

After cleaning up the mess from the broken clock, I had made my way to the kitchen, somehow managing to find the coffee maker through one half opened eye and one quarter open eye. Three sips into coffee that was strong enough to make your hair curl, I was able to get my eyes to open evenly and therefore decided to make breakfast and review the case file for the client I had for the day. It wasn't a hard case, all I needed to do was a little research, which I had done last night, and some leg work, which is what I planned to do for the day.

After making scrambled eggs with cheese and steak bits, I pulled on a pair of jeans, tucked in my oversized nightshirt and threw on a coat, walking out the door as I wrapped a scarf around my neck with one hand, clutching the coffee with the other. I made my way downstairs but wasn't lucky enough to avoid my land lord. "X!" he had called out. I sighed and turned.

"What?" I demanded, stopping. _Doesn't this guy ever sleep?_ I wondered.

"You're not throwing alarm clocks at my wall again, are you? I heard a crash again this morning!" the man said.

"I'll fix it," I stated, starting to walk again.

"You better or I'm upping your rent!" the slimy bastard yelled. I opened the door and plunged into the cold of NYC. _It's too fucking early for this,_ I thought, wrapping my arms around me. I began the short walk to Joe's Coffee Shop where my target started his morning, chugging my now lukewarm and therefore, disgusting coffee. _I'll get another at the shop,_ I thought, finishing the disgusting stuff and chucking it into one of the street side rubbish bins. I came up in front of Joe's and walked inside. I ordered a black coffee and then took up watch in a corner, waiting for the target.

He came in about an hour later. By then I had started dumping shots of vodka into my coffee. A little early in the morning for that, but it had been a long night of research and then a fucking early morning. If I didn't have some alcohol, someone was going to die. I put a cigarette in my mouth and pulled out my lighter, which was equipped with a mini camera, and acted like I was going to light up but in reality snapping a picture of the guy in question. After taking a few more snaps, making it seem like my lighter wasn't working, I put my cigarette back in my pocket but kept the lighter out to snap more pictures. The man got his coffee and left the building, going to work. I got up and followed.

I weaved in and out of the crowds on the street as I followed him, making sure I was always half obscured. Finally, the man reached his building and went inside. I turned the other way and entered an alleyway that was across the street. Climbing up the fire escape, I found a nice ledge and perched myself there, shoving myself in as far as I could so I wouldn't be seen. I pulled out my nicer camera and snapped a few pictures of the man at work and then set in to wait with an ear bud in my ear that connected me to the man's phone, which I had bugged yesterday.

It took FIVE fucking hours before the call I was waiting for finally came in. I started recording it as soon as the first words were out of his mouth.

 _"Hello?"_

 _"Meet me on Chenson Street in an hour."_

 _"Don't forget what we talked about."_

 _"You'll get it provided what you bring is worth it."_

 _"It will be."_

I smiled as the man hung up the phone. _You're not crazy Mr. Chorcer,_ I thought to myself, remembering the conversation I had had the morning before with the CEO of the corporation where my target worked. The man had come to me, believing there was a spy in his employ who was selling company secrets to their rival. It had taken me eight hours to go through all six hundred of the company's employees and determine who the bad apple was. After that, it was a cakewalk setting up to catch the target in the act.

I packed up my stuff and climbed down from the building where I had been perched, stretching my limbs out and insuring they were actually working so I could follow the man quietly and quickly. After that, I dumped the instant coffee I was carrying into my water bottle and sipped on the disgusting, overly caffeinated concoction while I waited for the man to leave for the exchange. The man exited the building, the memory stick in his left pocket. I shoved my water bottle in my backpack and slung it on my back, walking quickly across the street to catch up to the man.

I got up right behind him as he reached a cross walk. I stood behind him until the light turned green, at which point I bumped into him. "Oops, sorry!" I said, throwing an apologetic wave behind me. I kept walking, smiling as I fingered the memory stick that was now in my hand. I reached Chenson Street, it was really more of an alleyway, and climbed one of the fire escapes, perching myself on a ledge above the street.

Five minutes later, a man walked into the alleyway like street and leaned against a building, lighting up a cigarette and taking a drag. I could feel the beginnings of a nicotine craving surface but I shoved it down. _If you wait, you'll get to have one of those really nice ones,_ I told myself. The craving subsided a little at that thought, and I was able to concentrate on my job. As I waited for the target to arrive, I pulled my phone out. I shoved the memory stick into it, and downloaded the plans before sending them to my friend at the Patent Office. _"Get these patented in the next hour or your information goes public,"_ I warned. "Your information" meant the fact that he was actually accepting bribes from companies to only publish certain patents. I had busted him five months ago, but he had turned out to be a half decent resource so I hadn't ratted him on. Though, by now I was perfectly capable of doing without him so he made sure to fulfill my requests quickly.

Two minutes after completing this, the target showed up. He checked all around him, forcing me to shove myself against the wall of the ledge I was hiding behind, before walking up to the smoker. "Do you have my money?" he asked.

"Depends," the smoker replied, dropping his half-smoked cigarette on the ground and extinguishing it with his shoe, "Do you have the plans?"

"Right here," the man said, reaching into his pocket. His reaction when he discovered the plans weren't where he left them was almost comical, as his eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates and he began frantically patting himself down. I almost smirked as I watched.

"No, no, no, no, No! NO!" the man cried frantically. "They were just here!" he exclaimed. The smoker raised an angry eyebrow.

"You're not playing enemy agent, are you Ron?" he asked.

"No! I swear! I just had them! They were in my pocket!" The smoker, who was considerably bigger than Ron, began walking closer, backing Ron up against a wall.

"My boss won't take kindly to being played," he growled. I could see Ron swallow all the way up in my perch and decided I was done watching such a cliched show, letting out a long, piercing taxi cab whistle to make them aware of my presence.

"Oh boys!" I said, shoving myself off my ledge and falling off the third story ledge, sticking the landing perfectly. I pulled the memory stick out of my pocket and held it up for them to see. "Looking for this?" I asked, twirling it between my fingers.

"Where did you get that?" the smoker asked.

"The girl from the crosswalk!" Ron yelled.

"That's right. Now, if I'm right, these plans don't belong to you. So let's make a deal. Fight me, and if you win, they're yours. If not, I give them back to my employer. Deal?"

The smoker glared, before charging forward. I jumped up, back flipping lazily over his head as he smashed into the opposite wall. Ron rushed forward, trying to knock me down but I brought my fist up into his jaw, flipping him on his back. He laid there dazed, the wind knocked out of him. The smoker came up behind me and locked his arms around me. I swung my legs back, kicking him right where it hurt, before swinging them all the way up and slipping myself out of his arms. I locked my legs around his neck and jerked backwards, twisting my legs and throwing him to the ground while managing to roll myself up. I turned and delivered a roundhouse kick to the side of his head as he tried to stand back up. He fell to the ground and didn't get back up. I felt Ron coming up behind me, probably carrying a trashcan lid to hit me upside the head with. I waited until he was right beside me before bringing my fist up and knocking him in the face, effectively breaking his nose and rendering him unconscious.

"Another day, another dollar," I complained, pulling out my phone. "This is PI X, I've got two morons caught in the act of corporate sabotage unconscious on Chenson Street. Send someone to pick up their sorry asses." I hung up before the receptionist could answer. Stepping over the two bodies, I made my way back to the target's company.

"PI X for the CEO," I told the lady at the desk twenty minutes later. "And yes, he is expecting me," I said.

"One moment then," the said. I sighed and walked to the window to wait, pulling out my phone to check my messages. There was one new one from my friend at the Patent Office. " _Done_ " it said.

 _Attaboy,_ I though to myself. "Miss X? The CEO will see you now," the lady at the desk said. I thanked her and then walked through the doors of the CEO's office, dropping into a chair in front of his desk.

"Has their been progress?" the CEO asked. He was a nervous man, balding and in his sixties.

"I'm done. The two dumbasses responsible have been picked up by the police, I sent the file in while I was walking over here, and I had your company's new invention patented while I was waiting for the mole to show up. You owe me two thousand more than the originally agreed amount for that by the way," I said.

"Wait, you mean you're done? Everyone responsible is behind bars?" the man asked.

"I don't leave loose ends. They should get a good sentence." The man popped up and practically pranced over, grabbing my hand and nearly shaking it out of its socket.

"I cannot thank you enough Ms. X! You've saved my company from bankruptcy! I'll never be able to repay you, but I hope you'll allow me to pay you double for your services!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Very well," I said. Five minutes later I was walking out of the office with a check for twenty thousand dollars in my pocket. I smiled as I thought about all the things I'd be able to buy, even after paying all of my debts. _Good booze and cigarettes tonight!_ I thought.

So yeah, the day hadn't started out bad. But now, I was walking through the shadiest area of NYC in the rain. I looked down at my knuckles which had taken a considerable beating today. The words they had constantly repeated in Red Room flashed through my mind. _Don't use your fists. The bruises on your knuckles will give you away instantaneously. Use anything but your_ fists. I smirked. I had always been a rebel.

The sound of fists contacting with a human body pulled me from my memories. I jerked my head up and began to make my way towards the confrontation. Turning the corner, I came upon a group of three men kicking a bundle on the ground. The bundle jerked, pulling into itself closer, trying to avoid the blows. I felt rage build inside of me, pulling me forward. Red filled my vision as I remembered another time, another place.

 _"Begin!" a harsh voice calls out. Before I can move, three people are on top of me. A kick lashes out, aiming at my head. I barely managed to block as another one comes for my stomach. I grab the leg aimed at my stomach, pulling it and kicking at the supporting knee at the same time. A snap fills the air as the knee cap shatters and the girl falls to the floor. They'll kill her tonight, there's no way to recover from a broken knee cap. A punch comes for my face. I lean back, bringing up my leg and hitting the face of the person trying to punch me. I hear their head smack back. A roundhouse kick approaches my back. I arch it, softening the blow. Once the kick reaches its peak I use my arm to lock it in place, using my right leg to swipe the supporting leg of my enemy's out from under them before I swing them into the other assailant. Both tumble to the floor. The girl with the broken knee cap comes at me. I swing my elbow into her face, making it whiplash in a way it shouldn't. The other two girls separate themselves and come at me. I grab a kick aiming at my head and a punch aiming at my stomach. I pull both closer, dropping my chest and making them crash into each other. I bring a leg up all the way, contacting with their heads. I let my leg keep going, forcing the rest of my body to turn too, eventually flipping all the way over and landing entirely on top of their heads. The sound their heads make as they contact with the floor, their skulls fracturing, makes me sick but I push it down. I stand up amidst the carnage, raising my head to face the woman. "Assailants neutralized," I say._

I opened my eyes. The three men who had been kicking the bundle were dead, one fallen on a knife, another strangled and the third with a snapped neck. I turned my head to the bundle, now realizing it was a young man around the age of twenty five. He was bloody and bruised, breathing hard with one eye swollen shut, his lip and eyebrow split. The still open eye stared back at me, fear consuming its cerulean depths. I sigh, pushing an escaped lock of hair back behind my shoulder. "Come on, I'm not going to hurt you," I said, walking over. He tried to move away from me, but he groaned, his eye taking on a blank look, before his body went limp. I sighed. "Great, you're unconscious now." I complained. I reached down and picked him up, throwing him over my shoulders soldier style. _This walk just got a whole lot longer._

 **A/N: Wow, this chapter was a pain in the ass! Not sure about the last part, I actually wrote it on my one computer and then in some kind of whatever it deleted which was, of course, VICIOUSLY ANNOYING! Anywho! I'm still figuring this story out. I've got no definite destination in mind and absolutely no idea how I'm gonna get there. And no real canon I'm following either which is why it's under just plain Marvel. So yeah! Good times ahead! Please read and review, reviews are literally life, they totally make my day and every time I get one while I'm at work I squeal like a little girl and make my boss think I'm even crazier than previously supposed. Which is wonderful fun. Anyways, provided you're still reading this ridiculously long Author's note, stay tuned until the next time I decide to blow off my high school work where we will discover who this blue eyed individual is! (Why couldn't he have brown eyes? Brown eyes are cuter.)**


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